Killing Loneliness
by BaeLee
Summary: Ink was permanent, and it bound people together even in the most unpredictable of ways. For secrets, lies and betrayals were already beginning to weave their sticky web of destruction all over their entwined futures. Jax/Tara/Edmond/OFC
1. Black on Tan

**Genre:** Sons of Anarchy, Drama, Angst, Tragedy

**Ratings:** [T--MA]

**Status:** In-Progress

**Pairings:** Jax/Tara/Edmond/OFC

**Word Count:** 2,661

**Spoilers:** This Story takes place just after Donna's death, Will eventually spoil Season 2.

**Warning:** Strong Language, Sexual Themes, Drug use, Violence

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_"Ink was permanent, and it bound people together even in the most unpredictable of ways. For secrets, lies and betrayals were already beginning to weave their sticky web of destruction all over their entwined futures"._

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**Chapter 1: **Black on Tan

She could feel the nervousness creeping up on her once again, as it had so many times before this. The blind panic coursing its way through her veins, threatened to unravel every shred of self-control that she had left. "Its not uncommon to feel nervous before a big job." She told herself idly, noticing the lack of reassurance in her voice. The overwhelming uncertainty of it all pushed her to her breaking point every time, only to be pulled back up at it's end, unscathed. Luckily for her, she had evolved into a fleshy yo-yo ages ago, so she was used to the sickening motion of the ups and downs of the tattooing world.

Her eyes scanned the heavily papered walls in search of the battered clock her brother had gotten her some years back when she had acquired this business. She'd always been a creative kid, doodling on anything she could get her hands on. It was not the ideal career for a girl with her family background. Russian girls were supposed to marry young and raise a house full of little soldiers. She was never a stickler for rules though, breaking the boundaries ever since she learned how to walk. It was possibly that edge that made her a shoe-in for the lifestyle that came with living in Charming, California.

It was home to one of the most notorious motorcycle clubs in the world; The Sons of Anarchy. Their disregard for the law and its rules made them near royalty in these parts. Their outlaw brand of justice was what kept Charming a peaceful little town, away from the sharp eyes of those who intended to bring about a surge of industrial change just to make a quick buck. You would find no evidence of something like a Starbucks ever having existed in Charming, nor any other hint of "Big Business" for that matter; The Sons made quite sure of that. They were all a bit intimidating, and many not to be trifled with, but they were the glue that held this town together whether you chose to believe that or not.

Mina Renadli had been tattooing the Sons for a few years now. She had become accustomed to the mindless babble that filled her little shop on those dark nights when it had been packed with a full house, 20 eyes staring over her shoulder, scrutinizing every little move she'd make. Most times she'd find herself amidst a dozen chatty faces, feeding her suggestions, feeling the smoke filled air around her penetrating her senses; It was moments like that, that made her really grateful to be living in a town that offered such a variety of different characters. _Charming was never boring_.

"Goin' out for a bit." She heard a husky voice grunt from somewhere above her head, followed by the familiar set of warm lips and untamed chin stubble that pressed against her cheek in the usual way.

She stared up into the black onyx eyes that belonged to her older brother Angelo. He always wore the same look of severity on his face, and he nearly never smiled; a trait that is safe to say, only passed on to him. Angelo had dropped out of school in his 11th year to take care of Mina after their parents died. He was strict beyond measure, and probably the most suffocating, over-protective brother a girl could have; a truth that to this day, remains unchanged. Mina wasn't allowed much freedoms growing up, and Angelo hated the fact that she was in constant contact with the infamous biker gang. Mina was young, golden skinned, and her slender frame popped out in all the right places. He wasn't blind to the way the guys around town looked at her, the way their lips would curl into a smirk when she'd walk by wearing a pair of her favorite low rise jeans, or the way their intrusive eyes would study every inch of her body when she entered a room. It was continually pressed upon him that it was not a crime to stare at a girl, but had any of those goons been stupid enough to act on their impulses, he'd show them what punishment really was.

Mina cleared her throat, pushing the chestnut colored strands of hair away from her face as she rose to her feet.

"Where are you going?" She asked taking a quick glance back at the clock that hung, barely visible on the far wall.

"I'm meeting Mikhail (Me-Kyle) for lunch." He answered staring her over, a curious expression breaking across his face.

Mikhail was their cousin; a real "no-gooder". That boy was in more trouble than not, and he and Angelo were as close as two human beings could possibly be. Mina frowned crossing the room to where her desk sat, trying to pass off the look of disgust on her face as merely just nerves.

"He's out of jail then?"

There was a hint of cynicism in her tone, which did not go entirely unnoticed by Angelo, who sucked his teeth with mild annoyance.

"He's turning it around."

"I bet he is." She scoffed flipping the pages in her day planner until it read today's date.

"You really shouldn't be so hard on him, he did 2 years in Chino to save _your_ skin, remember that."

"TO SAVE MY SKIN?" She yelled tossing the planner aside in a fit of fury. "I didn't tell him to steal a car!"

"Don't forget why he stole that car, _Mignonette_ (Me-Oh-Net)!" He growled, yanking open the shop door.

She hadn't forgotten; it was that lone memory that kept her up most nights. But she didn't have time to sit there and reminisce on her inner turmoil's; her 3 o'clock had just walked in, and judging by the way he was fumbling to fix his vest, suggested that Angelo had plowed right into him in his hurry to leave the shop.

"Hi Jax." She sighed, reaching down to grab her beaten planner up off the floor.

"What was that about?" He asked, showing the slightest amount of concern as he turned to stare back out at the now empty sidewalk.

"Nothing." She assured him, dragging her shaking hand through her hair mindlessly as the nervousness she was feeling earlier suddenly swam back to her in a tidal wave of doubt and anxiety. "Just family stuff."

Jax was a handsome man, and notoriously known as being a badass. So, _obviously_ the women around town couldn't get enough of him. He was a catch, and they all knew exactly what it would mean to become the one that he would some day refer to as his 'Old Lady'. Day after day their hungry eyes would feast upon the big, bold patches of black and white that lined his famous leather cut. He was a Son. Oh yes, a true outlaw through and through.

He gazed around the empty enclosure; it was a strange feeling, being there without the company a dozen mild-mannered bikers. He didn't need a rowdy bunch of onlookers for this one; he'd convinced himself of that when he made this appointment.

She stayed quiet as he removed his clothes, almost not trusting herself not to say something stupid. It was only the sound of his cut being draped around the back of her chair that brought her back to her senses. Jax wasn't her friend. They barely knew each other, but he had helped her out of a tight spot a few years back, and that was something that she held high above all else in her book. Jax had been there for her when others had just turned their backs. He knew what being a son was really about. It wasn't about running guns or blowing up warehouses. It was about Family, and loyalty. It was about Brotherhood.

Her eyes scanned the inky-black lettering that lined his muscular back, its hard lines mirroring the ghostly image of the famous reaper that she saw only too often walk through those doors; She was not responsible for that work. No, in truth, she had never laid one mark upon the deemed "Prince of Charming". It was that little _truth_ that had had her second-guessing her abilities all day. She knew how important getting this tattoo done meant to him, and it had her absolutely mortified. Jax, on the other hand seemed less than worried.

He grinned at her, his suave Casanova attitude kicking into over-drive as he motioned for her to come closer.

"C'mon now Darlin', don't be shy."

She smiled, feeling the warmth rushing quickly to her already rosy cheeks. She hated when he'd use his charm against her. It was hard enough already to continuously remind herself that he was a taken man.

"I'm not shy…" She replied cockily, grabbing a fresh razor off a nearby shelf. "I was just thinking."

"MmmHmm." He mumbled as he sat down onto the black leather recliner at the back of the room. "And I'm already shaved, babe."

She eyed him for a moment, letting her eyes trail over his gleaming hairless chest. She knew he did this on purpose, but she was not going to fall for it.

"…So you are." She said simply, placing the unused razor back on its' shelf. "And why do you all insist on sitting over there when I have a perfectly good work chair over here."

Her gesture toward the center of the shop was lost on him as he stretched himself out obnoxiously before her.

"Comfort, babe."

"I'll give you comfort, _Jackson Teller_." She threatened under her breath before begrudgingly pulling over her vast table of supplies.

It didn't take long for the strong riffs of Iron Man playing in the background and the continuous humming of the tattooing gun in her hand to lull her into her most desired daze. Things always seemed to slow down when Ozzy was in the room, and for that she was grateful. All of the worry that she was feeling damn near melted away with those first few memorable chords. _"Has he lost his mind, Can he see, or is he blind."_

Jax grinned as he stared down at the muddy-haired girl in front of him, her head bobbing slightly with the music, while the hand working on his chest stayed still and strong. The steadiness of her actions reminded him of another woman he knew. He was reminded of the hands of a doctor. The hands that had saved the life of his son a few months back, the same ones that wrapped themselves in his tangled hair every night, pawed at his body and caressed his face with endless warmth. Tara's hands. She was the love of his life, or she _had_ been ten years ago, before she split to pursue a life without him, without the club. Her return to Charming was not a smooth one, and he still wasn't exactly sure where their relationship currently stood.

Sitting there with Mina was bringing back feelings and emotions that he had been detached from for over a decade. She was more like the doctor than he had realized. The teenage girl that he had fallen in love with 15 years ago was reflected in every inch of this girls' existence. She was strong-willed and stubborn, funny and charming, and she had a fire about her that could rival even his if given the chance. It was a dangerous combination and Jax knew that he'd have to try with all of his might to overlook the similarities and concentrate on their differences.

It wasn't long after, that Mina finished the last bit of shading, and with a wipe of her rag, stepped back to admire her work. The soft contrast of Black on tan popped as the name Abel relished in a sea of pink and puffy skin.

Jax rose from his chair and turned to face the large length mirror that hung vertical against the opposite wall, a smile dawning broadly on his face as he dragged his callused fingers across his heart in a circular motion. It was perfect. Abel really _was_ his heart, and now it was there in black and white for the whole world to see.

Mina was caught off guard as she found herself being twirled up into the air in a spontaneous hug, and then without a moments notice, whipped around to receive a large sloppy kiss on the cheek before being placed gently back on the floor.

"It's perfect Darlin'" He beamed.

The weight of his arm on her shoulder was nearly crushing her, but she dare not move, this moment was too perfect. She smiled knowing that she did good, and that all of her worrying on the outcome had been for nothing.

She was so pleased that she didn't even charge Jax, and denied the offer to enslave his Prospect for a day in the shop as an alternative payment plan. As enticing as it sounded, she had had her fill of smart-assed bikers for one day, and it was only when she heard the rumble of his Dyna speeding away, that she realized she had forgotten to ask him to come back in 2 weeks for his touch up. Luckily for her, Charming was a small town, and people were relatively easy to find, especially the ones who spent a healthy amount of time causing trouble and breaking the law.

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**A/N:** This story was a request for my friend Sam who wanted a love triangle type fiction between Jax, Tara and the newly introduced tattooist Mina, who is responsible for Jax's Abel tattoo seen in scenes from the Second season. Little does she know I have a lot more planned than just simple conflicts of the heart. There is an underlying story here that will make its self known in future chapters; Truly unexpected things that will have our characters scrambling to stay afloat. Some will make it, others will parish and Charming will alas, be dragged along with it.

Thank you for reading, Comments are surely appreciated!

If you'd like to view the character sheet for this story or catch up on some background information, you can visit my Profile here.

A link to SamCro forums has been placed on my profile page.

I upload HighDef episodes weekly. XD


	2. Moonlit Deceptions

**Chapter Rating:** [T]

**Pairing:** Jax/Tara/OFC

**Word Count:** 1,397

**Spoiler:** None this time. o_-

**Warnings:** Violence & Adult Concepts

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**Chapter 2: **_Moonlit Deceptions  
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The chilly night air whistled through the small flat, its deserted corridors dark and void of life. Her faint snores could be heard somewhere amidst the constant background static. This place she called home had become her first real escape into the real world. She could do anything here. It was here that she was able to discover her true self. No hiding, or pretending to be someone that she wasn't; She was home, …_truly home_.

Outside, the moon shone full and bright in the night sky, illuminating the small hallow of closely assorted buildings. This horde of glorified apartments sat a near mile away from the hustle and bustle of the Charming business district. It had been a real advantage when Mina had first started out, tattooing people in her living room. And 'til this day, it still stands as a place of peace and sovereignty; It was her escape.

Angelo, had stayed at the old two-story hovel that had once belonged to their parents. He had begged Mina to stay, shaming her into believing that she couldn't make it out on her own; but she proved him wrong. She was a self-made female, who it turned out, neither desired nor required the slightest bit of assistance from him or anyone else for that matter. She was destined for freedom, and she had found it in Whispering Hills.

She gasped, nearly falling out of bed as a loud crash broke the silence. She was an unusually deep sleeper, and regularly suffered from night terrors, but even she wasn't naïve enough to believe that she had dreamt a noise so explosively loud.

She strained her ears to listen as the heavy silence pressed in on her in an almost deafening calmness.

The ominous glow of the moonlight outside cast a mural of distorted shadows across the room as she cautiously lifted herself from the tangled bedspread. She had only managed to venture halfway across the dimly lit enclosure before another ghostly clang struck her senses.

She froze on the spot, feeling the blind terror of unknowing swiftly wash over her as if someone had just doused her in a bath of warm water. She tried hurriedly to remember a few key safety measures she had learned from the self-defense classes she had attended a few years back. _Jugular, instep, Nose, Groin…_

The house grew quiet once more, and she closed her eyes, visualizing herself fending off attackers. The thought was mildly amusing. She was a small girl, with not a whole lot of muscle mass, but the adrenaline spike she was experiencing right at that moment made her feel like she could take on the whole world.

She shimmied over to the closed bedroom door, pressing her ear against the keyhole in the sneakiest fashion she could muster. She could hear shuffling off to where she assumed was the direction of her tiny contemporary styled kitchen. She kept a baseball bat near the faux-fireplace in her living room; if only she could get to it.

Her fingers hesitated inches from the doorknob as the voice in her head radiated with anticipation. With the finesse of a silky feline she nudged the door open, slipping unnoticed into the deserted hallway. Footsteps were echoing softly on the linoleum kitchen floor to her right. Ignoring the increasingly loud pounding of her heart, she made a quick b-line toward the destined fireplace, through the opening on her near left, pushing all thoughts of capture and defeat out of her mind. She had only just grabbed the base of the aluminum bat when a husky voice gruffed something undecipherable from the direction of the couch behind her.

All means of sanity were lost as she began to swing the bat wildly into the night air, knocking everything in its path into a scattered and beaten pile of debris at her feet. A few times its' hard aiming strokes would make contact with something fleshy and yells of pain and surprise would broil out from tortured orifices, flooding the air with wraith-like shrieks.

She screamed in alarm as strong hands clamped down around her arms, tethering her movements to non-existence. The proverbial voice behind her muttered something indistinct as she threw her head back in a fleeted attempt at collision. She had been caught, but her scrappy nature wasn't going to let her give up now. In a fiery fit of brilliance she thrust the blunted end of the metallic bat toward her captor's foot, hitting it dead-on in a crunching feet of triumph.

The hold on her arms was slackened as her captor made a quick attempt to avoid anymore sneak-attack's from the frazzled girl. In this brief window of opportunity, she lunged herself forward, inadvertently tripping over a large mass on the floor. _There were two of them._

Her eyes widened with panic and she inched her way silently toward the front door, keeping her well-adjusted eyes on the looming figures in front of her the whole while. After a quick moment, the man left standing began to trudge his way over, his groans of displeasure echoing through the trashed living room as he stumbled over various objects on his approach.

Just as all hope was lost, a loud knock reiterated deftly around the room, soon followed by the booming bark of authority on the opposite side of the door.

"Open up…Police!"

She exhaled feeling sweet relief wash over her as she scrambled to open the door, knocking the approaching figure down as she yanked on the rusted knob with all of her might. Flashing beams of red and blue filled her little flat as she threw herself at her savior, meeting the glorious feel of soft khaki against her paled cheeks.

"Mina, are you okay?" The familiar voice of Deputy Hale crooned as he lifted her face to check the damage. She was a little sweaty and frazzled, but all in all, alright.

"There's someone in my house." She panted slightly, pointing back toward the dark doorway.

All manners of feeling and lucidity were slowing beginning to come back to her as she stood, frozen in the gusty night air. It was soon obvious to her, that she was not alone out there; apparently all of her neighbors had heard the commotion and had come out to catch a glimpse of the action. She barely minded that they were seeing her in her skivvies, just so long as she was safe.

Hale removed the flashlight from its holster, proceeding with caution toward apartment 112. The surrounding crowd held their breath as the air around them grew ever more tense in anticipation. In another instant, the Deputy dropped his guard disappearing into the house, a moment later returning with a pair of mildly beaten men. Mina recognized them instantly, and with a fiery pain in her stomach, closed her eyes wishing desperately that this had all been a bad dream.

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**A/N:** So, a quicky chapter 2. I had much more planned for this chapter but had I actually included it all in this one entry, it would have taken forever to read, So I'm just keeping it short and sweet. Chapter 3 will, with any luck be up sometime this week. *crosses fingers*

For those of you who are scratching your heads wondering how we've jumped from tattooing to home invaders, have no fear... all will be explained in due time. It is all a part of my process. XD

Thanks a billion to all of you who have subscribed in the various ways.

...and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review.

You're the reason I write. ^_^


	3. Smoke on the water

**Chapter Rating:** [M]

**Pairing:** Jax/Tara/OFC

**Word Count:** 2,597

**Spoiler:** None this time. o_-

**Warnings:** Violence & Adult Concepts

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**Chapter 3:. **_Smoke on the water_

She sighed, crossing her thin arms in front of herself as she took in the scene of destruction around her. Nearly everything had been smashed to bits, and for what? …A pair of crappy B&E artists who had turned out to be no more than her own flesh and blood.

She had stood outside for over an hour going over the details of events with the deputy, endured whispers and stares from her neighbors, just to learn that her asinine brother and cousin had only just been there returning the keys to the car that they had borrowed from her a few hours before without her knowledge; A car that was in fact returned to her missing a few key elements of design. Such as a pair of headlights, a spoiler and a back windshield that had been smashed into non-existence. So not only had they stolen her car, but also had it trashed along the way. _With family like this, she didn't need enemies._

She narrowed her eyes at the two grown men seated quietly on her couch, clutching little bags of frozen vegetables to their purpling bruises; no doubt, awaiting the looming wrath that they were sure was about to be unleashed on them at any moment. She'd have liked nothing more than to just start spouting off at the mouth for all of the grief and embarrassment they had caused her that evening, but she knew her words would only be lost on def ears. Instead she let out a long sigh and began to pick up the very few remnants that were left of her now unrecognizable living room.

"Mina…we're sorry." Mikhail's voice broke the tense silence.

"Don't…" She growled, thrusting shards of plaster that had once belonged to her lamp, into the large garbage bag at her feet.

He bit his tongue for a moment before speaking again, this time with a little more pleading in his voice.

"Don't blame Angelo, it was my fault… I took the car."

"I said don't!!" She seethed, sending a look of pure loathing in both of their directions before tossing down the bag and storming off toward her bedroom. "I'll finish this tomorrow…"

She didn't get much sleep. What with all of the excitement of the night before so fresh in her mind. The clock on her nightstand was reading a quarter to eleven before she actually decided to peel herself from the mattress and face the day. The anger and confusion that she had been feeling all night slowly began to resurface as she dressed herself in the mirror, noticing the plum colored impressions on her arms that Angelo's strong grasp on her last night had left behind.

She had decided on a faded-black long sleeved shirt that hung just delicately off of her bronzed shoulders. She thought it best to avoid the awkward questions that would come with having to explain how she had attained the large pair of handprint wrought bruises.

Angelo was the only one she saw when she entered the living room that morning, sleeping soundlessly on the corner chair with a soggy bag of carrots melting away in his lap. Mikhail had obviously skipped out sometime during the night, his signature "IOU" slip sitting abandoned on the center coffee table next to his empty bottles of Corona. That boy was useless.

She could feel the accusing stares of the neighbors boring into the back of her neck as she walked soundlessly to her parked car. The back seat of her Chevrolet Cobalt was littered with a mass of tiny razor-sharp opals of glittering glass. Her headlights had been smashed in pretty good also, and the sharp pang of anger she was suddenly feeling only intensified when she sat down at the drivers' seat, unable to pull it forward to reach the pedals.

She rode the three miles to the Teller-Morrow garage seated stiffly on the edge of her seat, the void of wind issuing from the back of her car, whistling deftly in her ears as she rolled along through main street. She wasn't blind to the way the townspeople's eyes would linger a little too long on her as she'd stop at a red light, only to turn away quickly when she'd make it a point to stare back.

Charming was no different than any other small town, and she'd be very surprised if the whole state hadn't known by now everything that had gone on last night. She tried to push those thoughts out of her mind as she made the turn into the familiar crowded parking lot of the Teller-Morrow garage. All three loading doors were open, and men in blue work smocks could be seen fiddling around under the hoods of various autos.

She parked the car just outside of the first door, attracting a few onlookers as she stepped out of the drivers side with her purse fastened loosely a top her bare shoulder.

"What happened here?" A familiar deep voice echoed from behind, before she was even able to take one step from the vehicle.

She turned to see a grinning Jackson Teller walking toward her, his untamed locks blowing carelessly in the wind as he drew nearer.

"What are you stalking me, Teller?" She joked, leaning against the charcoal gray sports car.

"You're on my lot, remember."

She nodded amusingly, as she placed her hand on her hip, her eyes following him to where he stood, circling around the beaten Chevy.

"So… whose responsible for this fine piece of work?"

"I'll assume you're referring to the car…" She smirked, raising her eyebrow in an accusing manor.

He smiled placing his hand on the trunk, where her spoiler used to sit, taking a brief glance back inside before coming face to face with the pretty brunette.

"Well you know, I admire a fine body regardless of the make…"

She stifled a laugh at his fleeted attempt at a compliment, dragging her nimble fingers through her silky smooth hair, at least trying to appear unfazed by his bad boy charm.

"So, how are you doing?" He asked his expression quickly becoming semi-serious. "I heard about last night."

She groaned rolling her eyes.

"How'd you find out?"

He laughed plunging his hands into to confines of his pockets whilst his shoulders rose briefly in a tell-all shrug.

"This is Charming, babe."

"Yeah." She scoffed kicking the tip of her checkered Vans at the asphalt, clearly annoyed. "Small town… very little privacy, I know the drill."

"Tig saw you on his way back to the clubhouse last night." He said, trying to reassure her that the whole town had not been all a buzz about it.

She nodded, believing that made perfect sense. Tig was always hanging around Whispering Hills. If it wasn't one apartment it was another. The girls would drop anything just to spend one night with him; the echoes and cries of pleasure and pain that could be heard all throughout the nights were proof of that. Mina didn't really like Tig; she always got the strangest feeling he'd like nothing more than to rip her clothes from her body every time he laid eyes on her, and she was probably right. Charming's most deranged Son had a long history of beating and victimizing women. At points, she wondered why the club even kept him around, but than she supposed his fierce nature would come in real handy in a fight.

She smiled, staring Jax over. Tsk'ing her tongue at the way he had himself bundled in about 4 different shirts.

"How's the tat feeling?" She asked motioning toward the grinning man's chest, wondering how a week and a half of 'club life' was having its toll on it.

"It's fine I guess…. It's a little red, hasn't scabbed completely over yet."

"Maybe you should wear less layers." She mocked, tugging on the blue SamCro hoodie that could be seen peaking out from below his cut.

"Oh yeah?" He laughed, eyeing her playfully.

"Yeah. You should let me take a look at it."

With a nod of his head, they were joined by another man. This one she recognized as the clubs newest prospect. He was young, just about a year or two older than herself, and he generally went by the name Half-Sack, but she never felt comfortable calling him that.

"Hey Kip." She smiled, nodding her head in his direction.

"Ouch!" He groaned glancing past them toward the parked wreck that was once a nice looking Cobalt. "What do we have here?"

"I need you to fix Mina's car, okay… we'll be inside the clubhouse for a little while."

Half-Sack nodded, staring worriedly at the amount of damage he would have to replace.

"Wont be done today… tomorrow afternoon maybe."

"Just get it done, grunt." Jax ordered turning back to face Mina, the look of affection slowly returning back to his features.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as he steered her toward the clubhouse on the opposite side of the lot. She had only been inside it once before, and at the time it had been packed with a rowdy horde of miscreants.

She felt a bit relived as he pushed open the door, leading her into the near empty clubhouse. It was definitely cleaner than she had remembered it and the musky smell of Alcohol and vomit was almost entirely unnoticeable anymore.

She smiled catching a glimpse of a fellow Son as they passed to the back where the dorm rooms were. She and Juice had always gotten along. He was a smart ass and he knew just what to say to make her smile. She fully believed mistakes like Tig were completely compensated for with patched members like Juice.

"Leading you to your doom, I see." He joked, looking over from where his computer sat on the far desk.

"Not today…" She laughed, as Jax continued to lead her toward the back. "I think he's the one who's for it this time."

Jax made an incoherent comment as he unlocked the door to his old dorm room, obviously disagreeing with Mina's little threat. She smiled a bit wider as she felt the hand on her back nudge her just a little farther into the dark room as the door closed swiftly behind them.

"Haven't been here in a while, so it's a little messy." Said Jax, stepping over toward his bed to push a few scattered things off of it before patting it, as a means of letting Mina know she was free to sit down.

"It's fine." She assured him, feeling the soft mattress sink in beneath her weight as the floor lamp beside her was concurrently clicked on.

She briefly diverted her attention to other things as he began to peel the layers of clothing from his body once again.

"Am I in trouble?" He asked amusingly a few moments later, positioning himself at the foot of the bed, as he proceeded to push her legs apart with his own, standing there with a look of defiance breaking upon his mischievous face.

She frowned at him as she pulled him down to get a better look at the mistreated ink.

"Jesus, Jax." She sighed letting her fingers trail gently over the irritated skin. "Don't you let this air-out?"

"You know me darlin'… always on the move."

She shook her head at the stubborn man, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being able to make her smile at will. She was not going to let him ruin something that she had stressed for a week over.

"Come with me." She sighed grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the little bathroom on their left.

It was a tight squeeze but she managed to prop him against the wall as she wet the washcloth she had snatched as they passed by the makeshift towel rack on their entering the bathroom.

"I didn't know you wanted me like this." He teased, putting on his most deviant smile.

"Shut up." She laughed pushing him firmly back against the wall as she brought the washcloth up to clean the poorly treated ink.

"Shit darlin' that stings!" He cringed as her hand worked his chest for the second time that month.

"Man up, Teller." She mocked ignoring his squirming.

She had just applied a layer of ointment to his irritated chest when a heavy Scottish accent reverberated loudly around the room.

"_Oye, Jackie boy! Tara's here 'ter see ya_!"

Jax sighed looking down at Mina with apologetic eyes as the distant creak of the door swinging open met their ears.

"Shit…" He groaned, resting his hands on the younger girls' hips. "Am I all good?"

She stared at him for a few moments, thinking of all the ways she could torture him, but settled with making him promise to cut down on the layers and devote at least one hour a day to shirtless recreations. He mocked her on how she just wanted him to prance around half dressed in front of her but eventually gave in when Chibs burst in for a second time muttering nonsense about having two pussy's when others have none.

Mina collected her purse from the bed, slipping her personal bottle of A&D ointment back into its interior before following the two men out of the room.

The thick, heavily smoked air that met her senses as she re-entered the main room nearly stole her breath away as she was left standing by the bar, watching Jax disappear through the back door with Chibs at his heel. The whole garage must have been on break, for nearly every inch of the place was newly swimming in a sea of blue and black fabric, the words Teller Morrow and Sons of Anarchy peaking out from every direction.

She could feel a few sets of eyes follow her as she attempted to sneak on by as unnoticed as possible. It was only when the familiar voice of the club's matriarch called her over did she finally stop. _She really needed to work on her stealth._

Mina glanced around for a moment, trying to locate the source of the catcalling, and only after a quick couple of seconds did she finally find it, standing behind the far side of the bar. The fearsome woman grinned a little too widely as she waved the young girl over, her multitude of large rings reflecting in the bar's lamplight.

She walked over a little reluctantly, thinking of all of the damage that woman could do with a packed hand like that, hoping desperately that she would be able to keep her smart mouth in check for fear of finding out about it firsthand.

"Hey you, …honey." Gemma called, watching the girl's expression become a bit more nervous as she approached. "You lost?"

Mina shook her head, adjusting the leather purse firmly to her shoulder as she answered the feared woman.

"No, I was here with Jax." She mumbled, glancing back toward the door. "…He escaped me though."

The look on her face causes Gemma to chuckle and is left feeling confused as the woman slides her a drink.

"That's my son." Gemma grins, bringing the small shot of amber liquid to her lips. "Who are you anyway?"

"Mina." She answers, examining her own shot glass for a moment.

"You'll want to drink that fast…" Gemma advises before returning her full attention back to the interrogation at hand.

"_So, how do you know my son, Mina?_"

* * *

**A/N:** I've had this chapter done for a while now, but found myself too distracted to proof read it this past week. But here it is, and I hope you'll all be a little more satisfied with the length of this installment than the last, although it was originally supposed to run about ten pages longer. I figured I'd leave you with some sort of an update before I disappeared for the next week, So I hope you enjoyed it... and I'll try and update as soon as I can.


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